


Stepping Stones

by Kagedtiger



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Build, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagedtiger/pseuds/Kagedtiger
Summary: A series of vignettes concerning the evolution of the relationship between Karkat Vantas and Dave Strider.Or, the troll title: IN WHICH DAVE AND KARKAT DISCUSS THE VARIOUS DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HUMAN AND TROLL GENITALS, THERE IS AN AWKWARD CONFESSION OF EMOTIONS, DAVE AND DIRK FINISH THEIR CONVERSATION ON THE ROOFTOP, DAVE GETS SOME ADVICE FROM A FEW OF THE LADIES IN HIS LIFE, AND THERE IS A SMUTTY EPILOGUE.





	1. A Frank Discussion of Comparative Alien Anatomy

**Author's Note:**

> This will be less a standard chapter fic and more a series of roughly-connected vignettes. Also, FYI, I am not going with the more common fanon interpretations of troll anatomy, and have instead made up my own. (It bothers me a little that people always seem to interpret them as having some sort of penis, when they have absolutely no need of any kind of insertion apparatus since they don't have internal procreation.) There will probably eventually be smut in this fic, but only at or near the end.

Dave is not the sort of guy who talks about his feelings, except sometimes by accident when he can’t control his mouth. (A more frequent occurrence than he’d like.) To be honest, he’s not even really the sort of guy who thinks about his feelings, most of the time. He just sort of does whatever seems like a good idea at the time, and hopes the lasting consequences don’t fuck him up too bad. It’s been working for him so far.

This is probably why he and Karkat have not really talked about how much cuddling has become a part of their daily routine. Karkat, it seems, is also not great with the talking when it comes to this sort of thing. Of course, he’s great at picking apart  _ other _ people’s feelings, but when it comes to himself... well, let’s just say they’ve both been pretty good about never discussing any of this.

It’s not like they plan to cuddle or anything. They just got into the habit of watching movies together. Not like that’s a fucking crime. And so maybe Karkat loves the gooey rom-com stuff. Fine. He shares them with Dave, and Dave shares his ridiculous action movies and so-bad-they’re-good ironically hilarious flics with Karkat. It’s like, a trade or whatever. Cultural exchange. Anyway, it’s funny how much Karkat loves the rom-com stuff. He’s so into it -- it’s great. Dave’s even found a couple of human rom-coms to show him to compare, just to watch the way Karkat gets initially excited and then extremely analytical about it.

And so maybe Dave would nod off sometimes in the evening, and Karkat makes a convenient pillow. Maybe it’s easier for them both to see Karkat’s weird bug-top computer thing if they’re closer together. Maybe that gradually morphed into them leaning on each other a bit. So what? A little physical contact never hurt anybody.

So it’s not like the position they’re in now is the result of long planning or some kind of ulterior intent -- Dave stretched out sideways on the couch behind Karkat, one arm around the troll’s stomach to keep him from rolling off the edge of the cushions. It’s just sort of the end result of a natural progression. And they’ve definitely not talked about it. It is what it is, and what it is is comfortable. Not everything has to mean something, no matter what Rose says.

The problem, then, is that Dave forgot that there are certain scenes in “Titanic” that are somewhat on the steamier side (literally), and, well, it’s not exactly easy to find a lot of private time on an -- all things considered -- pretty small meteor, and okay, maybe Dave’s a little pent up, what with being nearly 15 and all and so, maybe, in a perfectly understandable and harmless moment of weakness, he sort of... twitches.

Karkat is up off the couch in the blink of an eye like someone stuck a red-hot brand on his ass, goggling wildly. “WHAT the FUCK was THAT?!” he screeches. It’s a real good shriek, too. Positively fish-wife quality.

“What was what?” asks Dave, because there is absolutely no way to explain a budding chubby to your platonic alien cuddle-buddy, and so he takes the only reasonable course of action and plays dumb.

“Something MOVED!” yells Karkat. “Didn’t you feel that? It must’ve been a nibble vermin or something! Do you have a fucking spinal injury? It must have run right up your leg!”

Dave does the best half-shrug he can while lying down, and is about to attempt to play it off further when his body betrays him like Judas fucking Iscariot and he twitches again, out of nowhere. Goddammit.

Karkat’s eyes are wide as saucers, staring at Dave’s crotch. Without breaking his gaze, Karkat reaches down and picks up the weird gandalf-looking magic staff thing that Rose had left on the floor earlier. Dave’s not sure what the thing does, but it’s certainly heavy enough for a makeshift club. “Don’t. Move,” Karkat says through gritted teeth. “It’s in. Your pants.”

Dave would laugh if he weren’t terrified for his future children as Karkat approaches with the staff brandished like a baseball bat. Both hands fly instinctively to cover his crotch as he curls in on himself. “Jesus, Dude, chill! It was just my dick! Calm the fuck down!”

Karkat blinks at him. He slowly lowers the staff from an imminent ball-bashing position, although he doesn’t actually set it down. “Your...” he trails off.

Dave knows he’s probably blushing, and he hates it so, so much. He’s supposed to be cool about shit. Jesus Strider, keep it together. It’s just a boner, not the end of the fucking world. You already lived through the latter.

But Karkat won’t stop staring. His expression is something like horrified curiosity. “Your... your genitals move?”

Dave is somewhat thrown off by this. “Yours... don’t?”

There is a long and world-record awkward silence. This is some gold fucking medal olympic-grade discomfort here for both of them. The look of horrified curiosity on Karkat’s face does not go away. Finally he meets Dave’s eyes and says slowly, solemnly, “Strider, you have to be dead fucking honest with me here... Do humans have tentacles for genitals?”

Dave raises both hands to his face. He’s not sure whether to laugh, or cry, or maybe just stop fucking existing because Christ on a pogo stick, what kind of question is that? He takes a deep breath. “No, Karkat. Humans do not have tentacles for genitals.”

Karkat relaxes fractionally. The makeshift dick-crushing weapon lowers all the way until it touches the floor, although even now Karkat still doesn’t actually drop the thing. “But it... moves?”

Dave rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, sorta. Sometimes. It’s not a big deal, Dude. Why, how do your bits work?”

Karkat frowns. “No fair. I asked first.”

They stare at each other again a moment in silence.

Which is how, a few minutes later, the two of them come to be gathered around the coffee table with paper and crayons and Dave drawing what might be the first ever non-ironic dick he’s ever drawn in his life.

Karkat scowls at the picture. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You draw those all the time. That’s the lame shit you forced me to draw in Rose’s book that time I was trying to explain to you about Terezi and Vriska’s relationship. You drew one out of chalk and tried to make us play Number Square Jump on it that one time, remember? But no one said anything about them moving!”

“They don’t-  _ move _ , exactly,” Dave tries to explain. “It’s more like it sort of... grows? Like, swells? Like, it starts out like...” he tries to draw a non-erect penis, but it comes out looking more like a sad, lumpy upside-down U shape. “And then when a guy is, you know, interested or whatever, it fills with blood and sort of... stiffens up? And when it does it can, like, twitch and stuff.” Suddenly Dave is very self-conscious about how weird human dicks are. He’d never really thought about it before.

“So they are tentacles,” says Karkat.

“No!” Dave sets down his crayon. “It’s not like, prehensile or whatever. We’re not going around with, like, fucking squid crotches.”

Karkat still looks skeptical. “And all humans have these?”

“Well, all the dudes, yeah. It’s different for girls.”

Karkat throws up his hands, tantrum-style. Dave can sense one of the troll’s famous rants coming on. After more than a year on the meteor with the guy, he’s developed a sort of sixth sense for them.

“Do you mean to fucking imply to me, with all fucking seriousness, that female humans have  _ different _ genitals than male humans? What kind of fucking bullshit are you trying to feed me here Strider? Do I  _ look  _ like I crawled out of a fucking cocoon yesterday? Am I covered with metamorphosis-slime? Do I look like I’m fucking glistening to you?! How would that even work! I thought your species was usually all about the gender-mixing for sex? How would you even deal with a set of foreign genitals? What, do you like, need to read a fucking manual before you can have sex? So what do women even have then, hm? Like, a curly version or something?”

Dave holds up a hand, not because he thinks it will actually calm Karkat, but more in a sort of gesture of self-preservation. “Dude, it’s just a vagina. It’s not a big deal.”

“What in the massive glub-beast’s fucking fronds is a vagina?”

“It’s like...” Dave puts the crayon back to paper before realizing that he actually doesn’t really know that much about vaginas. He draws a vague, upright oval and then, after a moment’s consideration, draws two smaller ovals inside of it. “It’s sort of like that. It’s like, this part sticks out a little, I think, and that’s the part that you stimulate or whatever. And then there’s a hole part here that the penis goes in.”

“Goes  _ IN _ ?!” Karkat shrieks.

“Keep your fucking voice down,” Dave hisses. The last thing they need is fucking Rose Lalonde finding them and seeing Dave’s piss-poor attempt at drawing a vag. “Yeah, it goes in. That’s how human reproduction works. The male uses his penis to put the... uh, seed inside the female, and then the baby grows in the female’s uterus or whatever, and then nine months later it comes out. What, do you guys not do that?”

Karkat ignores the question. He looks pale. “Comes... out?” His voice is dazed. Dave hopes he’s not about to throw up; he looks like he might. “Like... a whole human?”

“Not, like, a full-grown human. But yeah. A baby. It’s usually like-” he holds his hands out in what he assumes is roughly baby size. Not that he’d fucking know, but whatever. Not like Karkat’s going to call him on it.

“And it bursts out of her... uterus? Where is that?”

“It doesn’t burst out. You’re making it seem like some kind of face-hugger shit. No. The uterus is connected to the vagina, so the baby sort of... comes back out the hole?”

Karkat still looks overwhelmed. “That’s utterly ridiculous. You realize that, right? Your reproduction is practically nonsensical. It takes place  _ inside _ the human? What’s wrong with your species?”

“Alright wise guy.” Dave hands him the crayon. “What do  _ your _ bits look like then?”

Dave’s not expecting much from this drawing; if anything, Karkat’s an even worse artist than he is, and that’s saying something. And, as usual, Karkat does not fail to disappoint.

He draws a series of wavy vertical lines -- two smaller inner ones, and two larger outer ones -- and then draws an oval at the top and a couple of circles at the bottom and leans back. His expression is smug, like  _ obviously _ these are the superior genitals, but Dave’s not even sure what he’s looking at.

Dave nods. “Oh yeah, I can totally see how you’ve got us humans beat. Man, I didn’t even know I really wanted wavy-line genitals until this very moment. How have I even lived my life up to now?”

Karkat scowls at him and gestures to the lines with the crayon. “Those are the seed flaps around the nook.” He draws a smaller oval in the middle of the lines. “You don’t normally see the nook much; the flaps protect it. It’s sort of... recessed? That’s where the... you know, the stuff comes from. The seed.”

“Okay,” says Dave, absolutely 0% clearer on anything. “So what’s with all the lumpy bits?” He points to the round shapes at the top and bottom of the lines.

“Well, in the front you have the bone bulge,” he points to the larger oval at the top, “and in the back you have the shame globes.” He gestures to the two circles. “They’re the... umm... the erogenous parts. The bulge is for flushed arousal, and the globes are for caliginous arousal. Depending on which part is aroused and, uh, stimulated, you get the corresponding seed. So, see? Totally sensible.”

Dave is unconvinced. “So your globe-y things and bulges and whatever -- they don’t, like, get bigger when you get turned on or anything?”

Karkat shakes his head. “Not really. I mean, they get softer. The chitinous bone-shields retreat, and they become like...” he glances around for inspiration, and finally picks up a stress ball that Rose had left on the floor from an earlier session of playing therapist. (The crayons had been on the floor too. God, this place is such a fucking mess. You’d think a bunch of teenagers lived here or something.) He hands the stress ball to Dave. “Sort of like that.”

Dave squeezes the stress ball. “Your chitinous... what?”

“Bone-shields,” Karkat replies. “You know. The plates under the skin that protect the genitals. Why, what do you have?”

Dave shrugs. “Nothing, I guess. Our genitals are just squishy and unprotected.”

Karkat levels him a look like that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

Dave raises his hands, palms out. “What? I didn’t design the damn things, okay?” He feels unaccountably defensive on behalf of the entire human race. They’ve been getting along pretty damn well so far with the genitals they have, thank you very much! Dave certainly has, anyway.

Dave has so many more questions. Like, if both male trolls and female trolls have the same bits, what’s the actual difference between them? And is Karkat implying that trolls have two different types of arousal? What is that even like? And where on earth (or, specifically, Alternia) do buckets fit into all of this? But right now he has one more immediate, more pressing question.

He stares at the stress ball as he squeezes it, thinking about Karkat’s diagram. The combination -- the texture of the stress ball, the drawings of dicks and things -- has sparked a specific sense-memory in his mind from fairly recent history. He tries to think carefully about how to word his question, even though he knows it’s going to come out sounding terrible no matter what he says. “So... how... how far back  _ are _ the shame globes, exactly?”

Karkat looks immediately suspicious, like he can hear in Dave’s tone that he’s up to something. “Far enough, I guess. Like, still mostly between the legs, but if a troll was naked you could see them from the back. Why?”

“So... if... say...” Dave feels like a heel, but he’s also grinning because he’s pretty sure this is secretly utterly hilarious. “Say someone was standing behind a troll, up against them, forcing them to draw dicks in some kind of ancient tome through, let’s say a physical altercation. If said troll was really annoyed, would the person behind them be rubbing up against...?”

Karkat immediately turns bright scarlet. It’s as amazing as Dave thought it would be. It’s barely even comparable to a human blush: more like someone threw red paint all over his face. “THERE’S NO NEED TO BRING THAT UP!” Karkat squawks. His vocal range is currently that of a puppy that’s just had its tail stepped on. 

Dave can’t help himself; he dissolves into laughter. He laughs so hard he falls backwards onto the floor and just lies on his back, giggling like a maniac. Poor Karkat. Dave suddenly feels much less weird about popping a boner behind him on the couch. 

Karkat swats his knee. “It’s not FUNNY, asshole,” he says, but there’s the tiniest thread of amusement in his voice.

A few moments later, when Dave is finally done laughing, Karkat says, “So, you wanna finish the movie?”

“Yeah,” says Dave, and sits up. And that’s the end of it.

They sit on the couch next to each other this time, a self-conscious distance apart. But half an hour later Dave is comfortably slumped against Karkat’s shoulder once again, breathing against his neck close enough to smell him. 

He doesn’t think too hard about it.


	2. Laying the Best Plans

Dave has managed to work himself into a good and frothy panic. It’s a pretty damn awe-inspiring thing, how completely and utterly fucking anxious and unprepared he feels. He feels like he’s about to jump off the highest possible high-dive there is. The mile-fucking-high-dive, this is it, this is for the gold, and the panel of judges is staffed entirely by disapproving aunts.

Step one of building this insanely epic panic was admitting to himself that he was kind of into Karkat. No, maybe it goes back further than that. Step one was the somewhat gradual realization that maybe it was not only okay to sometimes think and talk about feelings, but maybe a necessary and healthy part of life, surprisingly enough? And on the heels of that, the dawning realization that he was woefully inadequate and unprepared to do so, given how much of his life he’d spent categorically avoiding exactly that.

So he was already feeling a little nervous about playing catch-up to what everyone around him apparently already knew about healthy communication. And then part of that self-examination reveals to him that maybe his feelings about Karkat aren’t quite as platonic as he might have assumed. And then on top of _that_ realization and subsequently not doing anything about it for several months, he realizes that their three-year wait is up and now they’re about to go into a potentially incredibly dangerous situation and he hasn’t said anything and Dave could quite easily _die_ without ever fucking telling Karkat how he feels.

And of course, that means he has to fucking do something about it. And that’s where the true nerves come in.

He’s run about a billion scenarios in his head. He’s even tempted to try time-looping a little to try some of them out and then immediately take them back if they don’t work out. (The only reason he hasn’t is because it’s too much trouble to make sure the loops would be stable.) He has no idea which one, if any, will work, and which will go down in spectacular fucking flames. He has the sinking feeling that the latter might be his fate no matter what.

There’s the scenario where he talks about it first -- where he just walks up to Karkat and says, “Hey, before we get off this meteor I just wanted to let you know that it’s been real and I’d really like to keep doing the stuff we’re doing in this new world and also maybe try adding making out to that and see how it goes?”

And then there’s the scenario where he just hauls off and kisses Karkat and sees how the troll reacts. Just lay one on him and hope for the best. And then there could be the Big Romantic Gesture option, which he feels like Karkat would be super into, but which he’s pretty sure he couldn’t pull off in a million years. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

There’s also the chickenshit option, which is the one where he goes to someone else and feels them out for information, see if he can get them to talk to Karkat for him. It’s actually somewhat enticing as options go, but unfortunately there’s no one he can really ask. Terezi would be the obvious choice, especially since he’s pretty sure she and Karkat maybe-almost-sorta had a thing in the past, but these days he can’t really ask her anything without Vriska being there, and Vriska would just chew him out for not dealing with the problem directly. Rose would be insufferably smug about it, even if he was ready to come clean to her about his feelings, which he’s not entirely sure he is (even though, let’s be real, she probably already knows because Rose always knows everything). Kanaya... well, he could ask Kanaya, but he has a sneaking suspicion she’d basically have the same attitude as Vriska, she’d just be nicer about it. She’d tell him to stop dragging his feet and just talk to Karkat about it.

Of course there’s always the Mayor, but Dave would never in a million years dream of asking him to break a confidence.

Which means he’s pretty much going to have to do this himself if he’s going to do anything. He just doesn’t know how to say it. He knows if he just goes up to Karkat without a plan, he’s going to sound like an idiot. He won’t be able to help himself from opening his mouth and just vomiting words at the poor troll, babbling on and twisting his way around the topic, never really saying what he wants to say and probably inadvertently offending Karkat several times in the process.

It shouldn’t be this hard. He knows what he wants to _convey_ \-- how Karkat makes him feel like a kid again, but in a good way, the way that kids are supposed to feel rather than the shitty, paranoid upbringing Dave actually had. Karkat makes him feel optimistic, like everything will sort itself out, and playful, un-self-conscious, like no one’s going to judge him for just having fun and being himself. Like... like he has the leeway to figure out what “being himself” even means, without having to try and observe himself from twenty different angles and meta-angles and analyze every little possible nuance for double-meaning. Karkat lets him relax. Unwind a little. He had never really realized how tightly-strung he was until he finally started to let it go.

But he doesn’t know how to _say_ that without sounding like an idiot. Like, how would that even go? “Hey Karkat, thanks for helping me not be a bundle of PTSD who was convinced that not showing emotion meant I was mature and ‘cool’. ...Wanna make out now?” It just... it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like what he wants to say. It doesn’t feel like it expresses what he wants to express. He’s not sure what would.

And then even if he _does_ figure out what to say (or doesn’t, and just goes for the ‘kiss him you fool!’ option), there’s the little matter of how Karkat will react.

He figures there’s another three options on that front. Either best-case-scenario, Karkat is totally into the idea, and mad makeouts ensue. Or, worst-case scenario, he’s totally mis-read the alien cultural signals and Karkat was never really into him, or only into him platonically, and Karkat freaks out and Dave ruins their friendship forever. Or, middle option, it turns out that Karkat hadn’t really thought about it at all, and maybe has to take some time to consider the idea, at which point Dave gets to continue to be this nervous about it until Karkat figures out what the hell he wants to do.

The thing is, whether it’s a likely outcome or not, he _really_ doesn’t want to lose Karkat’s friendship. Even if Karkat isn’t open to the idea of maybe exploring things a little further, what they have now is awesome and if Dave didn’t have access to it anymore he’d... well. He’d live with it, because he’d have to, but it’d suck. But does he say that to Karkat? Does he lead with, “Hey, if you’re not into this, that’s okay, no pressure because I still really want to be able to hang out with you,” or is that just shooting himself in the foot before he even starts because it makes it sound like he’s expecting this to fail?

He’s still sitting in his room, pacing back and forth and debating with himself about everything, when his time runs out -- a crackly, smug voice comes over the newly-fixed PA system (and man, does Dave ever regret getting THAT thing working) as Vriska announces, “Hey nerds, guess who’s back and full of intel! Stop babysitting sleeping beauty for a sec and gather ‘round! Vriska OUT!”

Kanaya’s currently watching the unconscious Jade, and Dave’s not entirely certain it’s a great idea to leave Jade completely alone, considering what she’d tried to do before Vriska had put her to sleep. But they do need to know what they’re about to walk into, and it sounds like Vriska and Rose are back with the info, so now’s the time to find out. Vriska hates to be kept waiting.

Dave sighs. He’s no closer to a decision, and at this point it looks like the decision is going to be made for him and he’s just not going to get the chance to talk to Karkat at all. Shit. He’s such a baby. So much for manning up.

He opens the door to his room and steps into the hallway, only to nearly bowl over Karkat, who was apparently heading in the same direction. Dave’s internal panic ratchets up several notches. Oh god. He’s not ready. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say. Shit, he’s going to end up saying something, and it’s just going to be whatever comes to mind and it’s going to be _utter shit_ and-

“Oh, hey Karkat,” he says. “I was just about to-”

“Okay, hang on, listen,” says Karkat, interrupting before Dave can even get a full sentence out. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then apparently changes his mind and reaches up with both hands to grab the edges of the hood on Dave’s cape. Dave barely has time to register what’s happening before Karkat yanks his face down into a kiss.

Dave is so startled he barely has time to start to kiss back before it’s already over, Karkat’s letting him go and Dave’s left thinking, ‘Wait, no, I wasn’t ready, can we try that again?’ But Karkat’s already talking.

“Okay. Look. Just. I just wanted to say, I should have done that earlier, and I’m sorry. We could’ve had a ton of time to work this shit out while we were here on the meteor, and instead I put it off, and that was lame of me. And now we’re about to go try and not become extinct, and it’s not exactly the best atmosphere for figuring out the start of a relationship, so maybe it’s worth waiting until we make sure we’re both, you know, not dead and all, and so I just wanted to say, if we’re still both alive after all of this, I’d be maybe interested in seeing where this goes. Whether it ends up being pale, or flushed, or... whatever. Okay? Okay. That’s it.”

And then he runs away. He legit, honest-to-god scampers the hell out of there before Dave can even get his bearings enough to respond. Dave’s left sort of half-reaching after him, still trying to figure out how to respond.

Well. Okay then. That happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It kind of struck me that both Dave and Karkat's reactions in the post-meteor scenes really reek of 'not well-defined relationship.' Like, their friends don't know what quadrant they settled in, and the two of them freak out and dodge the subject whenever anyone tries to ask about it. Not really the sign of a well-established couple, although clearly *something* is going on there. So this is what I went with.


	3. On Archaic Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the Dirk and Dave's conversation on the roof.

Dave keeps his gaze focused on the crazy colorful clouds and sparkling trees of light that populate Dirk’s world, mostly so he can avoid looking at Dirk directly. “Okay, let’s say, way back whenever. Howww... how did you tell your friends?” he asks. 

He can tell Dirk is looking at him, but he doesn’t turn to meet the gaze. “What?” says his bro (except not his bro, don’t think like that, things’ll just get more confusing if you think like that). “You mean, like, how did I tell them I was into Jake? I mean, it involved him kissing my severed head in front of an erupting volcano...”

Dave starts to clarify his question before that sentence catches up with him and he stops with his mouth open. He wants to be cool and just let that one just slide, but there’s no way. No one in all of creation is cool enough to just let that go by without comment.

“You... what?”

Dirk shakes his head. “It’s a really long story. It was necessary for the game, and for all of us to not die.”

“Of course it was,” says Dave, because of course it was. He’ll come back to it later. One more in an ever-growing series of questions about this stranger who is somehow exactly what Dave expected and nothing like Dave expected. “No, but, what I actually meant was, how did you tell them you were... you know... I mean... how did you, I guess, come out?”

Dirk stares at him in silence for a second, and Dave’s starting to worry that maybe he offended him when suddenly Dirk’s expression changes to one of surprise, and Dave realizes that his earlier stare was not judgement but incomprehension.

“Oh! Coming out. Yeah, that’s like... that was some kind of early 21st-century ritual, right? Where people announced their sexuality to the world? Sorry man, I probably have more questions for you about that than you do for me. That wasn’t exactly something we did by the time I existed, and not just because Roxy and I were literally the last two people on earth. Pretty sure that sort of thing died out, like, at least 250 years before I was born.”

“Oh,” says Dave, disappointed but also weirdly relieved for reasons he can’t quite explain.

“Can I... Am I allowed to ask why?” Dirk asks cautiously.

Dave sighs. He doesn’t exactly want to get into his romantic troubles with someone who is still, technically, a near stranger. But he really does want some advice, and Dirk is the only guy (well, human guy) he knows who has actually dated another guy, and they’re probably going to be stuck here together at least a little while longer, so what the hell.

He hasn’t been very good at talking around this question so far, but he keeps trying. “Have you ever said something, when you were younger, like, taken a firm stand on something? And then later, you get older and you realize that, maybe, like, back then, you were kind of full of shit? But now you’re on record as having said those things, and it’s really hard to talk about how you’ve changed your mind without coming off like a complete asshole? Or, at least, like kind of a weirdo?”

He hears Dirk let out a sharp, sighing breath before sitting down on the edge of the roof next to where Dave is still standing. “Story of my fucking life, dude.”

Dave nods. “So how do you, like, gracefully announce that you’ve changed your mind? Or, at least, like, have a more nuanced point of view.”

Dirk shrugs. “I don’t know if I’ve really ever managed it in a way that I’d call graceful. I guess you just hope that the people you’re talking to, like, recognize that you are not the same person as you were? And, like, maybe they’ve also grown up and matured a little bit?”

Dave snorts. Fat chance with John. His earlier sorry attempts at explaining himself seemed to go entirely over John’s head. He’s not sure John is even capable of understanding, “hey, this is a troll that I’m kind of into, and he’s sort of a guy, but that’s not really relevant because trolls don’t even have the same genitals as humans, and actually sexuality is a lot more complicated and fluid than just ‘yeah, I’m gay,’ or, ‘no, I’m straight,’ or anything like that, and I don’t even really know where I stand with Karkat but I’m hoping you’ll be supportive because god knows I’m going to need some support while I try and figure this shit out.” 

Well, maybe he’d understand the support part. John’s pretty good about that sort of thing, usually. It just weirds Dave out to think of John thinking of him as gay, when he knows John is going to be carrying in a lot of bullshit baggage and associations that come along with that word. And Dave isn’t gay, not really. Or maybe he is -- the point is, he doesn’t fucking know. He’s only just now starting to realize that people are just people and some of them you’re attracted to and some of them you’re not, and maybe sometimes you’re into cute, shouty trolls and it really really doesn’t help to throw labels on anything because that just makes you feel like you’re supposed to act or be a certain way when really no one’s supposed to do anything. Everyone’s just muddling through life in the same state of nearly-constant confusion, trying to figure out how their shit fits into everyone else’s.

“I guess...” says Dirk, interrupting Dave’s reverie. He pauses, and then starts again. “I guess that’s sort of cheating, anyway, that advice. I mean, you want them to see past the old you, right? But it’s not like you’re not still that person, to some extent. Like, you’re self-aware of how much of an asshole you were, but that doesn’t mean you’re not still that asshole, at least a little bit. And I guess, if you’re really going to be fair and change who you are, you have to own that, right? You can’t just pretend it never happened.”

Dave sighs. “I sort of already tried that, but I’m not sure how well it went over. Not that he was a jerk about it or anything, I think he just... didn’t get it.”

Dirk hesitates, then says with obvious caution, “You don’t have to of course, but if you tell me what you’re actually talking about, I’m probably more likely to be able to help. Not that I’m any kind of expert at relationships generally or friendships in particular.”

Dave snorts. “I should’ve asked Karkat. He’s the relationship expert. Although, I guess, not really when it comes to things involving himself.”

“Which one’s Karkat? The little shouty one?”

Dave smiles in spite of himself. “Yeah, the little shouty one with the stubby horns. He’s a pretty fun guy to be around. He and I are... well, we’re not actually a thing, yet. We’re kind of... waiting to make sure we don’t die? But there... might be a thing there. Eventually. I kinda hope so, anyway. I don’t even know if it’ll be a romantic thing or just a friendship thing, or what. Troll romances are seriously complicated. I just... I just wanna keep being around him, that’s all.”

“Makes sense to me,” says Dirk. “Sounds like a good place to start. So then, who is it that doesn’t get that?”

“John.” Dave plops himself back down on the edge of the roof, finally tired of standing. And what the hell, if he’s going to let all his guts spill out in front of someone he was sure he was gonna hate, why not do it from a position of comfort. “He’s not a bad dude, it’s just... I dunno. When we were kids, we used to... I’m not proud of this or anything, it’s just we weren’t exactly, I guess, comfortable with stuff about sexuality? And anything abnormal was kind of something to make fun of? I guess it was partly the shitty culture we were brought up in, but you can’t completely blame that. We were little assholes, because we were kids.

“And now I have to go to him and say, ‘Hey, you remember all that shit we talked about being gay? Well, guess who’s probably gonna be dating a male troll in the near future!’”

Dirk frowns. “But that’s not really... ‘gay,’ as I understand the word, is it? I mean, trolls aren’t human males. It’s not like they have human anatomy or anything.”

“That’s what I think too!” says Dave. “But I kind of doubt John will see it that way. I don’t think he’s really given a lot of nuanced thought to sexuality in general. I mean, not any more than I had, like, three years ago.”

“Well, here’s what I will say, although maybe it’ll be more depressing than comforting,” says Dirk. “As someone who has experience being literally one of the last members of the human race, when you don’t actually have a culture around you, that shit just kind of stops being important. You keep everyone you can close to you, because there just aren’t enough people around to risk alienating anyone. I think John would put up with a lot worse to keep being your friend; it’s not like any of us have a lot of options.”

“You’re right,” says Dave with a snort. “That is more depressing than comforting.”

Dirk heaves a huge sigh. “Fuck, man, I could die here. I could die here, and the last thing I ever said to Jake was to yell at him for needing space and then break up with him. At least it seemed like you parted on good terms with John and with your troll friend. Whatever else happens, I think you have a pretty good shot at fixing things once this is all over, assuming everyone involved is still alive.”

Dave nods. “I guess so. So... what questions do you have about coming out?”

“Huh?” Dirk turns to look at him.

“You said you had questions for me about coming out? Like what?”

“Oh! It’s just, some of the stuff I’ve read and saw about that just seemed... really contradictory? And non-specific? Like, is there a specific age you have to do this? And does everyone have to do it, or just people with certain sexualities? And why do girls get to have a coming-out party when they do it, but no one else does, I guess?”

It takes Dave a second to understand what Dirk means, but when he does he laughs and laughs and laughs.


	4. The Playsphere is in Your Square Bounce Arena

Of all the people Dave expected to find himself spending time with in their brand new baby universe, he would not have called it being Jane. It was absolutely inevitable though, because the thing that he didn’t know was, Jane loves to cook. And Dave, he has recently discovered about himself,  _ loves _ to be cooked for.

It’s not that he loves to eat. Eating is fine, whatever, it’s nutrients. Some things taste better than others, of course, but he’s always been able to eat whatever he needs to in order to survive and not worry that much about it.

But, like, having someone cook for you? That’s amazing. He’s never had that before. Even on the meteor they all just basically warmed up whatever they needed whenever they were hungry. The idea that someone would put their time and energy and love into preparing a meal and then just, like, set it in front of you? Like a gift you get every day at supper time? That’s pretty goddamned wonderful.

Which is why it’s such a shame that he really doesn’t have much of an appetite today. He pushes his mashed potatoes and gravy around with his fork, making little rivers and lakes for the grey-brown liquid to run through to distract himself from thinking about what’s really on his mind. He heaves a sigh.

“Well,” says Jane, “don’t go taking the  _ entire _ weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Dave looks up at her. “Huh?”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I think you just heaved the heaviest sigh ever in the known universe. Not that, you know, it’s a high bar, considering the universe is about nine days old.”

Nine days. Which means ten days since he and Karkat had their, ‘Hey let’s talk about Us after we’re sure we’re not dead’ talk. Not that there was much talking on Dave’s part, but still. Karkat hasn’t said anything about it since, and Dave’s beginning to think he might die just from sheer anxiety on the subject. 

“You’re also not eating,” Jane points out, “which means something  _ must _ be bothering you. So spill it.”

“I just...” Dave trails off. He hasn’t actually told anyone about him and Karkat, other than Dirk. He assumes everyone who was on the meteor already knows, but that doesn’t include Jane. And all things considered, he doesn’t really know Jane that well. But then again, there’s only about a dozen people to talk to in the known universe right now (not counting the carapacians, since by and large they don’t actually talk), so it’s not like they’re not going to be all up in each other’s business at some point. So what the hell, why not just go for it.

“I’m kind of waiting to see if Karkat wants to be, like, romantically involved? And it’s kind of driving me around the fucking bend. Like, this road is so damn bendy I can see my own fucking taillights. I am a swerving, self-tailgating asshole built of sheer nerves right now, is what I’m saying. I should be pulled over by the fucking anxiety police, is what I’m saying. ‘Hello Sir, do you realize how fast your heart was beating there?’ ‘Why no, Officer, sorry, I didn’t realize, why don’t you write me up a ticket and also maybe a prescription for some fucking valium while you’re at it?’”

“Oh,” says Jane. There’s a pause. Dave really hopes she doesn’t give him grief about being into a troll, because that’s about the last thing he needs right now. She can give him grief about that metaphor, though. That was a terrible metaphor.

“So...” she says slowly, “did you, like, confess your feelings, and now you’re waiting for his response, or...?”

“More like the other way around,” says Dave. “He had this big outburst before our big crazy battles started, and he kissed me and said we should talk after we were sure we, you know, didn’t die and stuff, and now it’s after, and he hasn’t brought it up at all. And we’re just, like, doing the same normal friend stuff that we used to do before. And I kind of have no idea what he’s thinking.”

Jane is silent for a moment, clearly thinking herself. She’s been doing that a lot lately: taking some time before speaking. It has a sort of deliberateness to it, like it’s a skill she’s intentionally trying to teach herself. After a while she says, “Seems to me like, if he’s the one who confessed, then maybe the ball’s kind of in your court now? Maybe he’s been waiting for you to say something?”

This... hasn’t occurred to Dave. He frowns. “That’s not true. ...Could that be true? Nah, that’s not a rule or anything. ...Shit, what if he is?”

Jane shrugs. “I mean, not that I’m any kind of relationship expert or anything.”

Dave rolls his eyes. “There are, like, 12 of us in existence, and all of us are teenagers. None of us are relationship experts. ...Except maybe Karkat.”

“You know who you should be talking to,” says Jane.

“Karkat?” Dave guesses wearily.

“No. Well, yes, I mean, obviously Karkat. But besides that, probably Rose. I mean, she’s the only other human who’s been romantically involved with a troll, right? Not counting whatever weird spade-y flirting thing John and Terezi are doing? I feel like she’d probably have some good advice.”

“Hmmm,” Dave hedges. Jane is probably right, but there’s something that feels really demeaning about going to Rose with his problems. Maybe he’s spent too long in playful rivalry with her, but there’s a sort of sheen of sibling-like embarrassment that accompanies any thought of trying to talk to her about it.

“I’ll say this,” Jane continues. “The one little bit of relationship experience I do have? Being the one to confess, the one to initiate the conversation, gives you a lot of control. Much better to start it off yourself, plan what you’re going to say and everything, than just be caught off guard and have to react to what he says. I mean, right?”

Dave sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right as usual.” He takes a bite of his potatoes. They’re amazing, because of course they are. “Thanks Jane.”

She smiles sunnily at him. “You’re very welcome, Dave.”

  
  
  


He does end up going to Rose, because Jane does have a point -- if anyone knows what it’s like to be a human trying to romance a troll, it’s Rose. Not that Karkat and Kanaya really have all that much in common, but if there’s any cultural nuances to Karkat’s silence that Dave isn’t getting, he’s sure Rose can help him get a bead on it. 

“Oh certainly,” Rose says when Dave somewhat vaguely explains the situation. “The sports ball is most definitely, as they say, in your court.”

“Maaaaaan,” Dave hangs sideways off the arm of the chair in Rose’s living room, looking at her upside-down. Rose had elected to bring her old house back to the new Earth. Unlike Dave, who lives in Can Town because, uh, hello? It’s Can Town. And this way he can still hang with the Mayor. Rose herself is sitting on the couch, knitting something alarmingly extravagant that looks like it might be slightly physically impossible? Maybe it’s, like, a mobius shawl or something.

Rose hesitates for a second, obviously considering whether or not she should voice one of her many opinions. Shit, this is why Dave didn’t want to come here. When she does finally come to some kind of internal decision, she opens her mouth and says, “Dave, are you certain this is a good idea?”

Dave scowls upside-down at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, consider that he  _ is _ a different species than you. There are still undoubtedly many things you do not know about troll culture. For instance -- do you know how trolls signify to other trolls that they are in a committed relationship? What do you know about troll holidays, or festivals, or rituals? How would you know what Karkat is expecting out of a relationship? What about troll religions? What if he has some kind of taboos, sexual or otherwise, that you might stumble into?”

Dave flips over to focus on Rose more directly, but he’s still scowling. “Man, come on,” he grumbles -- mostly to hide the sudden terrified stab of panic because, shit, he doesn’t know  _ any _ of those things -- “I didn’t come to ask  _ whether _ I should date Karkat. I came to ask  _ how  _ to date Karkat.”

“Well then,” says Rose, “I shall rephrase my advice. Tread carefully with him, alright? I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. There are many aspects of a relationship with a troll that you probably have yet to discuss, or even consider. For instance, what about blackrom?”

“What about it?” asks Dave suspiciously.

“Kanaya and I have already had extensive conversations about what might happen if she discovers a caliginous partner that she finds attractive and that meets her needs. I personally am comfortable adhering to troll social norms and continuing to fulfill her flushed desires while she receives caliginous satisfaction elsewhere. Would you be?”

“Shit,” says Dave, staring at her. And then again, with feeling, “ _ Shit _ , I hadn’t even thought about that.”

Rose nods. “I expected as much. I’m not saying you shouldn’t initiate a more serious relationship with Karkat. I actually think the two of you are quite good for each other. All I will say is, be very honest, be very open to new ideas, and communicate as much and as clearly as possible.”

Dave nods. “Thanks.” She’s given him a lot to think about.

  
  
  


He doesn’t get around to approaching Karkat for another two days. But they have a regularly scheduled movie night to keep up, and fuck if Dave will let anything interrupt that. Some rituals are fucking sacred.

One of the nice things about having everyone together now is that they not only have access to everyone else’s movie collections, but between them Dirk and Roxy can get them pretty much any movie ever made with their crazy hacker powers. (“They’re not powers,” Dirk had said, “it’s just an archive of the Old Internet that I downloaded a while back,” and Roxy had added with a giggle, “Plus  _ magic _ .”)

Dave intensely wants to see one of the movies his alternate adult self made, but Karkat has vetoed them every single time.

Tonight they’ve got a double-feature planned, starting with “The Princess Bride” -- because holy crap, Karkat has never seen “The Princess Bride,” and he’s gonna love it, it’s a fairy-tale romance with sword-fighting in it -- and finishing with some troll romance that Karkat promises has dramatic quadrant-switching twists that will absolutely blow Dave’s mind.

Except that Dave’s mind is not on the movies. Even the way Karkat is half-draped over his lap isn’t enough of a distraction. Dave hasn’t been able to think about anything for  _ days _ other than the one kiss they shared almost two weeks ago and what the hell they’re going to do about it. His anxiety sits in him like an angry gremlin, poking his insides and whispering to him about all the ways it won’t work out, all the things that could go wrong.

When the movie finally ends (and dammit, he missed all the really good lines!), Dave grabs Karkat’s wrist as the troll reaches for the controls on his little bug-top computer thing. “Hey,” Dave says, his voice thick with nerves, “before you start the next one, can we, uh... can we talk? I mean, about, the uh... the conversation, that you wanted to have? Since we didn’t die?”

Karkat sits up and faces him. “FINALLY. Fuck yes, let’s talk. I was starting to think you’d never bring it up and we were just gonna pretend it never happened.”

Dave winces. “Yeah, uh... sorry. Guess... guess I could’ve manned up on that one sooner. I just... look... I... I’m not sure how to say this...” Despite having gone over and over and over the words in his head, and even practiced some of them while pacing his room in the middle of the night. No big deal, not like it’s been on his mind or anything.

Karkat’s face falls. “You’re not interested,” he says dully.

“No, no! It’s not that!” Dave hastens to assure him, panicking over Karkat’s expression. “I’m interested, dude! I’m hella interested! I am the most interested! Really! Call me Mr. Interested! ...No, don’t call me that. That’s stupid. Anyway, the point is, I’m cool with it, I just... fuck. I’m not sure  _ you’ll _ be interested after you hear what I have to say.”

Karkat raises a curious eyebrow, but he looks less immediately disappointed, which is a good sign. The crestfallen look on his face when he thought Dave wasn’t into him... Dave doesn’t want to see that ever again. That look sucks. 

“I already know about your tentacle dick, Strider,” Karkat says archly. “What could you possibly tell me that would be more off-putting than that?”

“Ha ha,” says Dave snidely. “Look, let me just. I have some stuff. To say. Just- get out your semi-circular precipitation shield here, because I am about to unleash a torrent of feels at you, okay? It will be a veritable downpour of heartfelt emotion. No one will remain unsplashed. We should maybe pause first to get some towels, ‘cause-”

“Strider,” Karkat interrupts, derailing what shaping up to be an epic disaster of a metaphor, “just get on with it.”

Dave takes a deep breath. “Okay, see, so, here’s the thing. I like you. A lot. And no matter what happens here, I’d still be cool with being your moirail, okay? I want to keep hanging out with you and, like, taking care of you and stuff. And if that’s all I can get, then that’s cool, I’m fine with that, because I don’t want you out of my life. I’m absolutely sure about that.”

“...But?” Karkat prompts after a pause.

“But, if you’re into trying it, the thing is, I really would like to try, like dating. A, you know, uh... matespritship. Like, with kissing and investigating each other’s weird alien genitals and all that shit. I’m down for weird. Let it never be said that Dave Strider is not fucking experimental. It’s just, here’s the thing.”

Dave raises a hand to the back of his head. He can’t meet Karkat’s eyes, so he stares down at the troll’s knees instead. “I don’t think I could stand to be involved with someone that I had to share. If you wanted to get together with me... I don’t think I could handle it if you had a blackrom on the side. I mean, I know it’s not the same kind of romance for you, and I know it’s unfair of me to ask you to cut a whole potentially fulfilling relationship out of your life, not to mention the sexual part of it, just because I can’t fully wrap my head around troll relationships. I know it’s selfish, and jealous, and like, human-centric of me. But fuck, that’s who I am. I’m selfish, and jealous, and human. So. Anyway. That’s it. That’s what I was gonna say.”

There is a long silence. At least, it seems long to Dave. He has to remind himself that he’s not doing time-travel any more because it feels like the same couple seconds are just looping over and over and over, extending infinitely forward and backward until no moment has ever existed except this excruciating wait for Karkat’s response.

“Oh,” says Karkat quietly. There is another infinite pause. “I guess... I mean, I can see what you mean, about that being tough. And, yeah, that’s a lot to give up. But...”

Dave looks up, startled into hopefulness by the “but,” and finds himself gazing into Karkat’s fond, slightly bashful expression. “But, you know, this whole alien cultural exchange shit goes both ways, right? I mean, it’s not fair of me to ask you to adjust to my romantic expectations and then make no effort to adjust to yours. And, to be honest, other than that ill-conceived crush on John and, honestly,  _ you  _ in the beginning, I’ve never really felt a very strong caliginous attraction to anybody. I sometimes sort of assumed I’d never really be fulfilled in that quadrant anyway.”

Dave’s heart is beating a mile a minute. “So, you’re saying...?”

Karkat squares his shoulders and sits up straight, determined, like he’s made an important decision. “I’m saying, I’m not interested in throwing away an emphatic, welcome ‘yes’ for some kind of theoretical future ‘maybe.’ So, if you’re interested in going flushed, I... yeah. I’d like that.”

Dave can’t help himself. He springs forward, wrapping his arms around Karkat and bowling the troll over backwards on the couch. He hears an “oof” from Karkat, followed by, “Be careful you oaf, it’s still not too late for me to change my mind,” but as far as Dave’s concerned, that’s just typical Karkat background noise.

With absolutely no idea what he’s doing, Dave kisses Karkat. It’s... well, it’s a teenage kiss. It’s awkward, and poorly-aimed, and limbs are being crushed at odd angles for both parties. When Dave backs off he thinks immediately that this is not exactly a great advertisement of his potential future prowess. Karkat stares at him with a raised eyebrow, apparently thinking something similar.

After a moment, they both dissolve into easy chuckles, anxiety evaporating into mirth as is often its natural course.

“Okay, that... could have been better,” Dave admits.

“Definitely,” says Karkat solemnly. “I think it’s very important that we practice this. We’re going to need to get much better at it.” He wraps his arms around Dave’s neck and pulls him back down.

They do actually end up watching the second movie, eventually. They’ve got plenty of nights ahead of them to spend making out on the couch, they both realize. And the cuddling during the movie isn’t even that different than what they’d been doing before.

Except for how it is. Except for how everything is different now, and amazing. Dave wonders if it’s possible for this feeling to last forever. He buries his face in Karkat’s hair and plants a kiss right between his horns. Forever seems like the perfect challenge for a Knight of Time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter to go; the smutty epilogue. :)


	5. Epilogue: Trial and Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final, smutty epilogue. Hope you've enjoyed the story!

“Fuuuuuck,” Dave groans against Karkat’s mouth. Making out with Karkat lately has been like this. They’d actually gone a surprisingly long time without any sort of serious sexual overtones. Dave figures he’s been a real good boy, a real sport about it all, considering the whole ‘hormonal teenager’ thing. Really, it’s impressive that they lasted even a day, let alone the nearly a month in which their makeout sessions have been getting successively heavier.

It started out as some innocent kissing and cuddling on the couch during their usual movie nights. It had evolved into some rather breathless makeout sessions, and then some rather more breathless shirtless makeout sessions. And finally it’s come to this, which is both of them half-naked and grinding against each other on the couch. It’s their eyes meeting, and a weird unspoken certainty that, actually, yeah, this time it’s going to be more. This time the pants are going to come off, and they’re finally going to figure out what all this genital nonsense is all about. 

Dave swallows nervously. Karkat looks pretty nervous too, although he also looks positively  _ edible _ with his hair all messed up and his lips plump from kisses. The troll clears his throat nervously. “So, if we’re going to- uh, do you have a... you know...”

Dave blinks. “A condom?” Not like he’s risking getting Karkat pregnant here, and he’s pretty sure they’re both virgins, so STDs are probably not a problem...

“...bucket,” Karkat finishes, his face flushing crimson.

Dave blinks at him for a moment, and then breaks into an enormous, manic grin. “Dude, am I finally gonna get to see what is up with the damn buckets? I am  _ hella _ curious.”

Karkat puts a hand over his eyes in a familiar ‘please save me from this idiot’ gesture.  “I’ll take that as a no,” the troll huffs. “I, uh, I have one in my room. If... you want to...?”

Dave hurriedly sits up, pulling his weight off Karkat’s still-prone form. “By all means, let’s move this party!” He extends a hand to the troll, who allows himself to be yanked up off the couch. “Lead the way!”

It’s not that he hasn’t seen Karkat’s room before. But there’s a certain excitement to the fact that now he’s seeing it with, well,  _ intent _ . Karkat shuffles in among the mess of clothes and discs and weird grub-tech stuff and bashfully avoids eye contact as he opens a closet door and reaches in for- well, a bucket. It’s a small metal thing, about the size of something you might hold halloween candy in. Probably doesn’t even merit the term bucket, really -- more of a pail. He sets it shyly on the floor next to the weird giant purple cocoon thing the trolls use for beds.

Dave eyes the bucket, then eyes the cocoon. “We don’t have to actually, uh, get in there, do we?”

Karkat follows his gaze. “The recuperacoon? No, of course not. How would we move through the slime? That doesn’t even make sense.”

Dave shrugs. “I guess humans just usually do it on their beds, is all, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Well,” says Karkat, unsure. He leans against the surface of the cocoon bed, sinking into it slightly. The massive height of the thing doesn’t actually let him lie prone, but it does seem to sink slightly to absorb his weight. It looks actually not terribly uncomfortable; something like a giant beanbag. He looks up at Dave with a, ‘well, what are you waiting for?’ expression.

Tentative, not entirely trusting the thing with his weight, Dave leans against it next to Karkat. It’s surprisingly squishy -- more the texture of a waterbed than a beanbag. Slowly, Dave leans further into the thing until he can squiggle his way over to Karkat. The generous pillowing surface of the cocoon pushes them against each other. Dave leans back in for more kissing, distracted by the way Karkat is self-consciously biting his own lip, and by the strange, subtle sort of earthy  _ smell _ that he’s started to notice around Karkat whenever they do this that he thinks means the troll is turned on. It smells like some kind of dried herbs that you’d use in fancy cooking. Dave can’t quite put his finger on it.

Karkat responds to Dave’s kisses like he usually does, by grinding their hips together. Dave groans into the troll’s mouth. Yes yes yes. Why the hell did they wait so long to start doing this? This is amazing. Dave Jr. is certainly raring to go, and twitches against Karkat’s thigh, causing the troll to laugh into Dave’s mouth -- a happy, humming sound.

“It’s excited to meet you,” Dave mutters against Karkat’s lips.

“Talking about it in the third person is really not helping your case that it’s not a tentacle, you know,” says Karkat.

Dave doesn’t respond verbally, but he does reach around behind Karkat and grab the troll’s pert bottom in both hands, squeezing and using the leverage to pull him forward, grinding harder against him. Karkat makes that lovely little groan again.

“Alright then,” says the troll when he has his breath back, “let’s see it.”

Dave swallows -- he’s fine, why would he be nervous? -- and pulls off his pants, boxers, and socks in one probably-too-effusive gesture. He manages to not quite trip over the bundle of fabric as he gets it off his ankles and tosses it carelessly into the room at large. Together, he and Karkat both look down at the exposed member.

“Huh,” says Karkat.

Dave fights the sudden urge to cover himself with his hands. “Good huh or a bad huh?”

Karkat shakes his head, which isn’t really an answer. “No, it’s just... I don’t know why, but I guess I expected it to be a different color than the rest of you.”

“What, like, purple or something? Is  _ yours _ a different color?”

“No, not really, I mean... uh... nevermind. You’ll see I guess. Can I...” he lifts a tentative hand. “Can I... touch it?”

“Please!” says Dave, maybe a little too quickly. He grasps it in demonstration. “Usually I sort of uh, rub this part?” He draws his hand up and down the shaft. “And then the really sensitive part is the head up here.”

Karkat reaches out with surprisingly little hesitance, at least as far as Dave can tell, and grabs him firmly, mimicking Dave’s motion. “Like this?”

Pleasure shivers up Dave’s spine. “Yeah, just like that. Nng.”

“It’s smoother than I expected,” says Karkat. “The skin is very soft. And then...” Karkat reaches under Dave with his other hand and prods his testicles gently. Dave winces, but he didn’t actually poke hard enough to hurt.

“Those are the balls,” he explains. “Careful with those, they’re real delicate. And, uh... pretty sensitive.”

“So strange,” Karkat murmurs, apparently to himself. “Why would you have something so vulnerable just hanging out there like that?” He leaves the balls alone and goes back to stroking Dave’s cock, which Dave is totally 100% okay with. He’s a bit lighter on the pressure than Dave likes, but he’s probably not sure how breakable Dave’s junk is overall. Probably better this than the alternative.

“You can -- haaah -- you can squeeze it a little harder, if you want,” Dave manages. He’s not going to be coherent for long if Karkat keeps this up. Especially since the troll immediately takes his advice and grabs him more firmly, squeezing as he pulls his hand up and down, mimicking Dave’s earlier motion.

Which is not exactly what Dave wants, surprisingly, because he’s also kind of interested in finding out what junk Karkat has. This is supposed to be a mutual experience, after all.

“Can I uh,” he tries after a few panting breaths, “can I see yours now?” Not exactly the smoothest way to ask, but whatever, at least it gets the point across.

“Oh.” Karkat sounds like he only just remembered that was a thing. He blushes again, which is something Dave will probably never get tired of seeing. For someone who’s so effusively caustic in public, he’s endearingly shy in private. “S-sure,” he says, and takes off his pants only slightly more gracefully than Dave managed. He nudges the bucket by his foot slightly; it makes a nervous metal clattering noise.

From this vantage point, there’s honestly not much to see. Dave can make out what must be the bulge in the front -- which is a little weird-looking, if he’s being honest; it looks like Karkat’s wearing an athletic cup under his skin -- but the rest must be actually between the troll’s legs.

Curiosity is practically eating him alive at this point, so Dave bends down to kiss the join between Karkat’s neck and shoulder softly, running his hands up and down Karkat’s sides, before slowly descending along Karkat’s body, sinking to his knees.

If the bulge is nothing particularly special to look at, the seed flap wildly exceeds Dave’s expectations. Man, Karkat’s drawing of the thing  _ really _ sucked. He didn’t nearly do it justice.

The... formation, for lack of a better term, between Karkat’s legs is stunning. It’s like some kind of exotic flower -- an orchid, maybe -- all extravagant unfolding petals and layers. In the center slightly towards the back is what must be the nook: a small depression shielded by the central semi-circular petal of the flap. And then surrounding and connecting to that are large, flower-like folds that bloom their way outward.

It is slightly lighter than the rest of the troll’s grey skin, closer to white with a slight pinkish tinge to it. Dave wonders if it’s pink for all trolls, or is that just because Karkat has red blood, like a human? Whatever the case, it’s beautiful. Dave just stares at it a moment, transfixed. Then, not exactly thinking about it, he leans forward and buries his face in the cleft of Karkat’s legs, inhaling it.

That earthy smell he’d noticed before is much stronger here, confirming Dave’s suspicions. It’s also damp -- there are no visible fluids leaking out anywhere, but there’s a certain... humidity to it, like the summer air before a thunderstorm.

Dave’s hands are on the back of Karkat’s thighs, and he can feel the troll’s legs trembling slightly. He rubs the back of them comfortingly and feels his fingertips brush against something hard. And not, like, hard like his dick. Hard like suddenly encountering a rock, although the surface of whatever it is is smooth.

He ducks his head lower down for a better look, and- ah. Those must be the globes. Two smooth, dark hemispheres nestled further back, behind the nook. They’re almost like testicles, but less... dangly. And less wrinkly. And very dark grey. ...Okay, not that much like testicles. And also, apparently, not the primary point of interest in this encounter. The questing nudge of his fingertips suggests that the two globes are firm and unyielding, like the surface of some kind of melon. While the bulge...

Dave lifts his face slightly and presses his nose into the bulge. This has a soft give to it. Karkat gives a soft, whimpery moan as Dave presses against it. The texture is, as Karkat had described it, surprisingly like a stress ball. It doesn’t have the same rubbery outside -- that part is as soft and smooth as the rest of Karkat’s skin. But the softness of the way it gives, the way it ever-so-slightly resists the pressure, is very similar.

“That’s-” Karkat gasps softly, “-that’s good.”

Feeling somewhat adventurous, Dave opens his mouth and licks the bulge, just to see what happens. There’s no indication that Karkat even notices, although his skin continues to shiver against Dave.

Disappointed, Dave goes lower, and licks a long stripe from the nook up the length of one of the flaps. (Folds? Is it all technically part of one flap? Man, they’re going to need to have a more detailed talk about all this afterwards. Dave had no idea.)

This  _ does _ cause a reaction. Karkat lets out a sudden, high-pitched squeal before clapping a hand over his own mouth. Dave immediately draws back, concerned.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, uh,” Karkat’s entire body shudders. “That was just... that’s very sensitive. I was just... surprised.”

Dave grins wickedly, and repeats the actions, drawing his tongue slowly and deliberately across the ribbons of flesh. Karkat manages to contain himself slightly better this time, although he still lets slip a series of small whimpers that go straight to Dave’s groin.

Dave continues in this vein for a bit, bathing Karkat’s nethers in sloppy laps of his tongue. The texture makes him think, weirdly enough, of fjords? Which is not something he’d ever thought he’d think about during sex, but it does have a certain... canyon-y quality? Long raised ribbons of flesh whose rise defines areas of recess between them. However he’d describe them, they make perfect pathways for his tongue to race along, diving into the recesses and following their winding trails.

When Dave finally draws back slightly, Karkat is shaking and squirming, a hand pressed firmly over his mouth to prevent him from crying out. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this.

Dave straightens up, prying Karkat’s hand away to kiss him again, deep and passionate. With one hand he reaches between them and grabs Karkat’s bulge, kneading and squeezing it until Karkat is moaning into his mouth. Karkat reaches down to reciprocate, grabbing Dave’s cock and tugging at it until they’re both breathless and leaning into one another for support.

“Hey, uh,” says Dave, “do you think I could try...” He doesn’t really know how to phrase it, so he just demonstrates, grabbing his own cock and nudging it between Karkat’s thighs. Karkat spreads his legs slightly, watching Dave curiously. The access lets Dave fully slip between, nestling his cock in the cleft of Karkat’s legs. He adjusts himself a little until the tip of his head is just nudging against Karkat’s nook. It’s too shallow to actually penetrate -- it’s not that kind of opening, anyway -- but it’s just deep enough that he can sort of- thrust the tip of himself against it, and- ooh.

This has the effect of causing the folds of Karkat’s seed flap to rub up against Dave’s shaft, and the texture is just delectable. It’s crazy wild, amazing, but there’s just a little more that Dave’s seeking, something...

He grabs the outside of Karkat’s thighs and presses them together, holding them tightly closed around his dick, and there- that’s it. That’s the pressure he was looking for. Gasping, Dave thrusts into the cleft, almost involuntarily. It’s amazing. It’s perfect. Holy fuck, why did they wait so long to do this?

The thrust has the added effect of pushing Dave’s pubic bone -- right where his cock meets his body -- into Karkat’s bulge. The troll groans and bucks his hips, which slides the flap along Dave’s length like soft, questing fingers, and holy shit. It’s like they were made for each other.

They thrust against each other, wild, sloppy. Dave buries his face against Karkat’s neck. He thinks he should say something, something encouraging, but he’s too blissed out to find words, and so he just kisses Karkat’s neck because it’s right there in front of him. Nips at it slightly.

_ “Fuuuuuuuck _ .” Karkat, it appears, is not without words. “Dave. Dave,  _ fuck _ this is so good. Fuck. Harder. Please. More.”

Dave grabs Karkat’s butt in his hands again and grinds into him as hard as he can. Karkat is wild with it, scrambles to get his hands around Dave and reciprocate, trying to drive them into each other with as much force as he can.

It’s too much -- so good, so much pressure, so soft and warm and wonderful -- that Dave doesn’t last more than a few minutes. Long before he wants to he’s bucking helplessly into Karkat’s cleft, coming messy over the troll’s thighs. He breathes hard and heavy as he comes down, feeling drained and helpless.

Karkat barely seems to notice, however. He keeps thrusting his hips desperately against Dave, whimpering, seeking more pressure even as Dave’s cock softens and slips out from between the troll’s thighs.

Dave reaches between them and grabs Karkat’s bulge in his hand, kneading it hard, digging the heel of his palm into it as hard as he can. Karkat’s whimpers become keens, his hands lifting to fist in Dave’s hair, demanding.

Dave leans in and nips at Karkat’s small, every-so-slightly-pointed ear. He keeps working his hand, kneading and pressing and while it’s not necessarily a motion he was expecting to use in sex, it’s driving Karkat crazy and that’s all that matters.

Dave moves down from the ear and back to the neck, biting down and sucking hard, willing a hickey into life. He’s not sure if trolls bruise the same way, if Karkat can even get hickeys, but he’s sure as hell going to try. As he does so he pushes the heel of his hand as hard as he can into Karkat’s bulge.

Out of the corner of his eye he just barely notices Karkat nudging the bucket slightly with his foot before Karkat’s entire body goes taut and then shudders immensely in a full body roll and he comes.

It is  _ not _ what Dave was expecting. Karkat doesn’t come just a little bit. He... well, the word that comes to mind is  _ gushes. _ A pale, pinkish liquid positively  _ streams _ from him, and it’s only now that Dave realizes that those folds in the flap actually have a purpose. They contain and direct the stream and allow Karkat to aim it -- somewhat miraculously -- into the bucket, rather than just splattering everywhere.

Dave’s eyes are wide in amazement. It just keeps happening, to borrow a phrase totally inappropriate for the context. Karkat doesn’t actually fill the bucket, but Jesus, there must be, like,  _ cups _ of the stuff in there. Like, half a fucking gallon or something. Dave is breathless watching it.

When he finally finishes, the last of the liquid dripping down his thighs, Karkat collapses bonelessly against Dave. His breaths are full-body, shuddering gasps. Dave rubs his back comfortingly.

“Holy shit Dude,” he says, inadequately.

After a moment Karkat stirs, and scowls slightly. His expression is still slightly vague, like he’s only barely aware of his surroundings. “Sorry,” he mutters. “You still need...” he gropes absently at Dave’s thighs.

Dave grabs the seeking hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles lightly and chuckling. “Nah man, I already had mine. You didn’t even notice.”

“Muh?” says Karkat eloquently.

“Mine’s not nearly as, uh, ostentatious as yours,” Dave explains, although he’s not sure Karkat’s coherent enough to even hear what he’s saying. “I bet I can do it more often than you though. I mean Jesus, how much body fluid do you lose through that? You must be crazy dehydrated.”

“Hmnu’mph,” says Karkat. He burrows his face against Dave’s chest, his eyes mostly closed.

For a while they just lie there against the purple cocoon, partly dozing. It’s not until a few minutes later that Karkat regains enough of himself to start blinking some presence back behind his eyes, looking up at Dave. He looks almost surprised to see him there.

“Welcome back to the world of the waking, princess,” says Dave with a grin.

Karkat’s expression immediately changes to a scowl and he whacks Dave lightly on the arm. Dave is undeterred, however.

“That was quite a show you put on there,” Dave teases.

“Shut it, Strider,” Karkat grumbles. Dave only laughs. He looks down at the bucket and Karkat follows his gaze. Surprisingly, Karkat actually managed to get most of his fluids inside the thing. There’s only a little bit that splashed over the edge.

“I see what the bucket’s for now,” says Dave. “I can imagine that would be, uh, pretty messy otherwise. I’ll try and make sure I have one for you at my place, just in case.”

“Good,” says Karkat. His voice is a bit muffled against Dave’s chest. “Because I’m sure as fuck not walking through the streets carrying one up to your door.”

“So uh... what do we do with it now?”

Karkat takes a deep, sighing breath, contented, and snuggles himself against Dave, pressing against him up and down the warm lengths of their bodies. “I don’t know,” he replies after a moment. “If the mother grub was hatched and matured, I’d have to save it for when her drones came to collect it. For now I guess we just... throw it out? That seems so wasteful.”

Dave shakes his head. Troll reproduction is _so weird_. “Drones? I kind of vaguely remember you telling me about those. They like, show up to take your jizz away? That’s fucked up, man.”

“Not as fucked up as growing an entire human  _ inside _ another human,” Karkat insists.

“So what happens if they show up and you haven’t had sex in a while?” Dave asks. “Do they just, like, wait there while you go get your partner and have a quickie? Or can you just, I dunno, whack off into a bucket or whatever? Wait, do they  _ watch _ ?”

Karkat snorts. “In porn, maybe. Of course you’d go there. And no, you can’t just ‘whack off into a bucket.’ If you don’t have someone else’s hormones stimulating you you don’t get the same, uh... flow. That’s why it’s so important to find someone. Or, was, I guess. I have a feeling the drones from a mother grub raised by Kanaya won’t kill you if you fail to produce the necessary material.”

Dave kisses the top of his head. “That’s good. Because I don’t see us producing any caliginous seed any time soon, and I plan to keep you around for as long as physically possible.”

He can feel Karkat’s smile against his skin. “Sounds good to me.”

“By the way, your aim’s pretty fantastic for your first time, I gotta say. You weren’t kidding. Troll genitals are really something else.” 

“Thanks,” Karkat says dubiously. “And uh, your... your bits aren’t too shabby either.”

Dave grins. “I’m gonna remind you you said that.”

Karkat groans, a particular sound reserved exclusively for Dave Strider. It’s beautiful.


End file.
